Shining Out of Darkness
by deathwraith
Summary: shonen ai, 2+1. Heero recognises that his training has been less than perfect and may need lessons from his companions.


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SHINING OUT OF DARKNESS

Warning_: slight shonen ai, 2+1, 1+2_

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Disclaimer_: Gundam Wing belongs to Sunrise, Shotsu Agency, Bandai, blah blah blah, and has been used without permission, purely for entertainment purposes and not profit. _

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Author's Notes_: This is the first in a new series where Heero begins to recognise that his training has been less than perfect and he may need lessons from his companions before his lack becomes a liability to the team. The POV will sometimes change from story to story. I am not familiar with American 'candy bars' so have used the Canadian ones that I know. They have a higher chocolate content, too. Hmmmm that should make a beer one rather interesting! Maybe later..._

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CHAPTER ONE - A MATTER OF TASTE

Ninmu kanryo. Satisfaction. That's what I feel when I type those words in the mission report. Satisfaction. Something that I know I shouldn't feel, though I do. A small indulgence I allow myself. Harmless. Doesn't distract me from my missions nor my work. Unlike the others whose emotions seem to overrun logic, and in one case, run rampant. Satisfaction allows me to focus - my reward for success. I close the report and begin researching the new Oz base that was being built in central Canada. Looked to be a spaceport....

My investigation was interrupted by a whirlwind in black who blew into our bedroom and plopped himself down on the bed. MY bed. Why does he always do that?

"Whatca doing? Finished your report yet? Probably, knowing you. How's Dr. J, the old pervert? We did pretty good considering the intelligence - ha, there's a laugh - was shit. Damned good thing we had a plan 'B', hey Heero?"

I didn't bother answering. Why waste my breath when he already knows? I heard him get up and ruffle through his part of the dresser. Undoubtedly looking for a snack. Missions for some reason seem to make him hungry. Sometimes I think merely breathing makes him hungry. He has no self discipline when it comes to his appetites. I was right. He sets himself back down on my bed and I can hear the rustle of a chocolate bar wrapper being removed. I wait for it.

"Want one, Heero? They're really good you know. Nothing like a bit of chocolate to hit the spot. Something sweet to take the edge off. Have you ever had a Crispy Crunch? I love them! Bite of peanut buttery taste and all that chocolate - good combination. Have a piece!"

I shake my head. Fucking predictable, that's what he is. Why does he do this? He always offers and I always refuse. I tell him I don't eat chocolate. I tell him it has no nutritional value. It will not contribute to the maintenance of my body nor my efficiency as a soldier. Taste is unimportant. It is a useless indulgence....

And I find myself tilted 45 degrees backward on the swivel chair I am seated in. His eyes burning two inches away from mine, his face unexpectedly angry. I am still trying to figure out how he moves so damned fast and quiet when he begins to speak, biting off each word in a low but level tone. Not like him at all.

"You don't get it, do you. You still don't fucking see. What do you know about taste? What is your basis of comparisson? What do you know about chocolate? Experience? Hell, you've never had any yet you judge and judge and judge. I like chocolate. It tastes good. It may have no nutritional value but it doesn't harm me either. Eating chocolate makes ME feel good. I may not need it, my body may not need it, but I eat it because I _can_! You don't because you won't let yourself. You're scared that if you try it, you might like it. And you have noooo experience with that, do you? Everything you've done, all your experiences have been based in pain. Fuck up a lesson, get punished. Learn a lesson, no punishment. Well I hate to tell you this buddy, but that kind of training limits you. All of your experiences are just that - limited to what you've been exposed to. You've never been allowed to discover anything for yourself - least of all pleasure. So you fear. You fear things that are outside your experience. And **that**, my friend, makes you fucking dangerous to be around. You may have your plan Bs, Cs and Ds. But what happens when you run out of pre-plans, eh? You don't have the flexibility that we need to survive those kinds of situations. And that lack of flexibility is going to do one of two things - get you killed or get one of us killed. And don't give me that fucking shit about soldiers being expendable either. It's bullshit and if you'd let yourself actually think about it for a minute, you'd see that, too. There are only five of us and five Gundams! We are not OZ where they have umpteen thousand soldiers and mobile suites available to them. We are only five! We are fucking priceless. Irreplaceable. So before you fuck us up with your Perfect Soldier and your less than perfect training, it's time you learned a lesson. Because if you can't learn this, then you can't be a team player - and you are sooooo proving that.

Each of us has a role to play in this team. You get your missions from Dr. J. But he doesn't tell you everything. I have a primary mission that overrides any and all battle missions that come to me. My assignment is to make this team _work_ as a team. If I have to act like the cheerleader, morale booster, practical joker, whatever, then fine. I will and I do. And I have the qualifications for this, a masters degree in Psychology - earned it online when I was working for the Sweepers. I have been part of a team, I know how they work. I have tried getting you to learn how to _be_ with us - get out and play a bit, relax a bit, learn about us as individuals. But no, you hide yourself behind your laptop and refuse to learn. So here it is. Last chance to see if you can add to your training because that's what this is. You may not like my methods - tough shit. I don't care what you think about me, as long as it's based on experience and not some fucking uninformed warped opinion of yours. You have to get over your fear of new experiences - and yes, babe, it is a fear.

Your task - and NOT a mission because missions are what we do against OZ, tasks are what we accomplish in life - your task is to taste two different chocolate bars and then write a report on which one you _like_ better and _why_. No nonsense about nutritional value either. You have one hour."

He let go of my chair and came back with another chocolate bar. He broke half of it off, and half from his Crispy Crunch then slammed them on my desk.

"One hour," he repeated and left the room.

I stared at the door. This was very unlike him. Not the chocolate or the 'taste test', those were both very Duoesque. No, it was the serious manner, the controlled anger. I hadn't seen either from him before and it bothered me. I thought I had him figured out - not hard to do as he was so easy to understand. One manic, disgustingly cheerful pilot of limited ability and intelligence with a bent for noisy destruction. And a Master's degree in Psychology. 

I looked at the Crispy Crunch piece. It was easier than thinking about what he said. There was too much truth there that I was not ready to examine yet. I brought the chocolate closer. I could smell the peanut butter. There were flaky layers of orange-brown - the filling, I guess - and a light chocolate that surrounded it in a thin coating. I bit off a small piece and let it melt on my tongue. It was sweet as I expected. The two flavours did taste good together. I wondered if it would taste different if I ate it all at once, so I popped the rest into my mouth and chewed. Yes, there was a subtle difference as the peanut butter became more predominant and the texture more crunchy. I swallowed, then looked at the second one.

A Bounty. The chocolate was darker, almost black and it had a different feel to it. I smelt it, there was something there but I couldn't identify what it was, the chocolate masking an odour that was more delicate. I bit into it and immediately tasted coconut. Very, very sweet coconut, but the chocolate was more bitter than the other one. It seemed to help balance out the overly sweet white shredded filling. I could smell it now as well. I popped the rest of it in and rolled the mass around my tongue as I chewed. This time there didn't seem to affect the taste much.

I found my gaze lingering on the dresser drawer where the rest of Duo's stash was housed. I wondered how many other chocolate bars were there and if they were all different as well. I didn't wonder very long as my fingers pried open the drawer. I wasn't hungry, just needed more of a basis for my opinion. At least, that's what I told myself. I reached in and grabbed the remaining four bars. A Mr. Big, a Coffee Crisp (would that be like Crispy Crunch?), a Kit Kat and an Aero bar with orange - whatever that was.

Ten minutes later I had demolished each one. Their flavours were unique as were their forms and textures. But there was something about that orange and chocolate combination I liked. I sat down at the laptop and tried to analyse why that combination appealed to me. I think it was the smell as well as the taste. The Aero had a strong orange smell with it that seemed to enhance the flavour - and the texture of the small air bubbles in the filling was appealing somehow. I looked at the screen and then at my keyboard. And licked my lips. I didn't know if I could write this down, the feeling, the description didn't seem appropriate for writing.

I rose and went downstairs to find Duo. I was within my one hour time-limit, though I didn't know how he would take my extending of his assignment to include the rest of his treasured hoard. He was in the living room with the others, playing cards. I stood silently in the doorway and watched the game and interaction between the players. Trowa was sitting slightly forward on the couch, face expressionless as he viewed the cards in his hands and those on the discard pile in the centre of the coffee table. Beside him was Quatre who was looking at his hand with a puzzled frown, body unconsciously leaning toward his lover. Across from him Wufei seated straight and balanced in the easy chair and looking carefully at each player. Sprawled on the floor at his feet was Duo, ever-present grin on his face as he drew one card from the pile and discarded another. His grin got even wider and he chuckled to himself.

"Time's up, Heero. Your report ready?"

He hadn't even glanced at the doorway as he said this. I entered the room and looked down at him. He slowly tilted his head back and met my eyes. Somewhere in the back of my mind was a feeling that no one should have eyes that bright and uncommonly large. 

I cleared my throat. And began.

"You said to write a report. I've decided to give an oral instead as a written one did not seem appropriate to the task. You can judge if that was an error or not. Of the two chocolate bars you gave me, I liked the Chrispy Crunch better, but could not explain why. I felt I did not have enough experience for a basis of comparison, so I ate the rest of your chocolate bars. As a result, I found that I prefer a stronger flavour to a subtle one. I like dark chocolate better than milk chocolate because it has a bitter taste. I like the Aero bar with the orange filling the best. Even though it is milk chocolate, the taste and the texture of the bubbles in the centre made up for it, " I concluded. For some reason I felt very nervous and also somewhat excited. Perhaps it was the sugar or the caffeine I'd ingested so quickly over a short period of time. Or the fact that I had enjoyed this new sensation but did not want to share that fact or show it. I really wasn't sure, but I did feel.....antsy.

Duo just stared at me, mouth slightly open in a round "oh". I didn't look at the others, I just needed to know if I had completed the task to requirements. 

"You ate all the rest. The other four bars?" he asked finally. I nodded.

"You decided to do this on your own, expand the task and then change the report?" I nodded again, he was beginning to make me worried, maybe I had exceeded the task parameters....

He jumped up and hugged me. "That's great, Heero! You took a risk and discovered the why of something without anyone giving you extra orders. Ya know, now you're gonna have to replace my stash, right?" The smile he gave me lit up his whole face. It seemed different from his usual grin, more real. He seemed - happy - that I accomplished this.

I brusquely removed myself from his arms and grabbed my jacket from the closet. I might as well buy the damned things now or I'd never hear the end of it. As I was searching pockets for the car keys I heard him mutter something about it being a good thing there wasn't any Belgium chocolate or there'd be hell to pay. Which left me wondering about different nations and their sweets. Opening the door, I decided that exploration was best left for another time. As I walked down the sidewalk to the car parked on the front street, I glanced back at the window to our safehouse. I couldn't see anything since the curtains were drawn, just the faint glow of the living room lights. Then a shadow rose and stretched - upper limbs reaching up and out. I could almost hear the joints popping, even out here. Then it slid back down and disappeared from view, a thick rope following it down like a tail. Fluid. Graceful.

I checked my wallet before getting into the car. Enough there to buy Duo's four, no, six chocolate bars. Starting the engine I wondered how many different brands were out there as I headed down the street looking for a convieniece store. One thing I did know. I preferred my partner's training methods to those of Dr. J.

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TBC

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Another Note: I really do have the next chapters to both "Salt In Your Wounds" and "Prism" written, just am not too happy with them - muses having deserted me at a most inopportune time. Then had my work assignment changed at last minute, two new projects added and a promotion which means more meetings so time has been at a premium. I was trying to write chapter 3 to "Leaving Emerald City" (and eating a Crispy Crunch with a Dr. P chaser) when this one popped up out of the caffeine induced haze....and I haven't forgotten part 2 to "Equipment" either. Sigh. Writer's block is such a drag.


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